Smile (Complete)

We are responsible for those whom we've tamed. Part 2

"So, what's there with Sun? Why did Type go with him allegedly because of me?"

The yellow eyes of the houses stare reproachfully into the darkness. Tired of human mistakes, the sky weighs heavily over the cold earth. They're combing the streets, the coastline. Naya naively hopes that, perhaps, Type is hiding in one of the booths. But Tharn is sure that whatever the state of Type, he is not so stupid as to hide from the rain in a booth without a roof. Maybe he was on the beach - it's unlikely that he's been sitting in one place for two days - but not now.

"Sun threatened him that he would do everything to get you kicked out of school if Type refused him and his friends on Friday."

"How do you know that?"

A cough muffled by the rain is heard from under Naya's umbrella:

"I overheard him bragging about his new victory in the hall before classes. Tharn, you understand, since he knows that you and Type have become close, he will continue to use him to hurt you. It's Sun... Who will forbid him?"

Actually, Tharn has already decided how he will act. It's just that the most important thing right now is to find Type. Alive. So for now, he decides to keep silent about his plans.

"Well, he's not here, Naya, we're just trampling the sand in vain."

"Where else have you been with him?"

As if Tharn had forgotten.

"Well, he is unlikely to be allowed into the museum now. And so... We walked along the streets. And here on the beach. There are only two locations and there are no more."

"Type ... where are you..." laments Naya.

Tharn, just in case, dials Type. Sure, he's unavailable.

"Stop! There is one place... Just then, too, there was a downpour. And there is a wide visor and the shelter itself in the niche of the building, on the side. And the yard doesn't go outside. There is a place to hide."

"So what are we standing for!"

Tharn remembers it well. His hands remember hugging Type. His eyes remember the burning gaze opposite. And a bright smile on the lips of his silly boy.

Some kind of ball of pain shrunk on the ground. You won't immediately understand that this is Type. He is squatting, leaning against the corner, hugging himself and looking at the gray rain wall.

"Type... how you scared us!" Naya sits down next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Get up! Your mom is going crazy there! They're looking for you all over the town... Type."

The boy does not react. He just wraps his arms around himself more tightly.

"You try here, I'll call my father for now, let him hang up on the search there, and I need to inform his mother."

Naya is not far away, and Tharn takes her place.

"Type," without wasting time on reproaches, he takes off his jacket, wraps this puppet, broken by people again, in it, and pulls Type to him so tightly, "you're completely numb... Type."

Type's cold lips begin to draw something incoherent on his neck. Tharn pats his shoulders soothingly:

"We have to go home, Type. Your Mom is worried."

Hearing him, the boy begins to twitch in the Tharn's arms, who soon discerns:

"I won't go, I won't go, I won't go home for anything... I'd rather stay here... I'd rather stay here!.. I'm not going home!"

"Hush, calm down, baby," Tharn pulls him back, "but we can't sit here all night long."

"I'm not going home, I'm not going!" Type starts screaming again.